


sit back

by thereisnoreality



Series: hallucinate [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Choking, M/M, Motorcycle Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise, Reload Universe, Smut, jaemin calls jeno pretty a LOT, like thats pretty much the whole fic, tiny mentions of tiny violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:46:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23921047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereisnoreality/pseuds/thereisnoreality
Summary: “Anyone ever told you, you look like a wet dream on that bike?” A smug voice sounds out.Jeno rolls his eyes, still trying to get his other glove off. The zipper is caught and it’s not bowing to his efforts. “You do, actually. Several times a week, sometimes in very inappropriate situations.”
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Series: hallucinate [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1737847
Comments: 41
Kudos: 532





	sit back

**Author's Note:**

> [i mean](https://66.media.tumblr.com/a79b320edf9c7b000bb49d78e3e101af/ac48cdd374470b40-f3/s640x960/af786bb6a03de3056e1ee921f07dfcfa973bce9b.gifv) what did you expect me to do

The motorcycle rumbles under Jeno’s fingers as he pulls into the garage, vibrations running up and down his body. He always feels weirdly like jello when he gets off his bike, like his body was trying to slow down the world around it, trying to get off the high. 

He fumbles in the side pouch for the clicker and presses it. The garage door creaks slowly shut, heavy metal slamming down with a noise of finality. The locks click automatically into place, a loud, resounding noise, and once again the house Jeno calls home becomes a fort around him. 

Jeno slides the clicker back in, and frowns when his fingers brush something unfamiliar. He doesn’t pull it out yet, though, just angles his bike down the ramp and into the second level basement where the other bikes stand, all varying shades of black and chrome, some spraypainted - Renjun’s handiwork - others gleaming wet from a recent wash. 

He pulls into his spot, all the way at the back of the garage by the corner and cuts the engine. In an instant his ears blank out, and it feels like the whole world goes fuzzy for a second, with the loud rumble of the bike no longer filling the air. 

Jeno remains on the bike, planting his feet on the ground and stretches, arching his back and pulling off his helmet. The job had taken a _while_ and he was still sore from last night. He’d had to leave at dawn, slipping out of a too warm bed, and gearing up while sleepy murmurs followed him out the door. Now, it’s nearing mid afternoon, and Jeno’s tired and grossly sweaty all over. 

He drops his arms, groaning, rolling his neck back to ease some of the tension that had built up painfully all over his shoulders. A spot of blood by his wrist on the sliver of skin left exposed between his gloves and jacket, catches Jeno attention and he frowns down at it, yanking his glove off to check his hand for any injuries. He takes an experimental deep breath to see if anything twinges. Nothing. 

Jeno sighs and scrapes at the spot of dried blood until it flakes off. He thought he’d cleaned up properly. Fuck. He’s going to get yelled at if there’s any evidence of his DNA at the scene. 

The door behind him, the one that leads into the house, creaks open.

“Anyone ever told you, you look like a wet dream on that thing?” A smug voice sounds out. 

Jeno rolls his eyes, still trying to get his other glove off. The zipper is caught and it’s not bowing to his efforts. “You do, actually. Several times a week, sometimes in very inappropriate situations.”

A laugh, soft and low slinks around them, curling over Jeno’s shoulders and up into his ears. There’s a few steps and then the figure is rounding the bike, the bright blue hair filling Jeno’s vision first as he bends his head to the glove. 

“Gimme,” Jaemin murmurs and Jeno extends his hand letting Jaemin wrest the glove off his hand. “How was the job?” Jaemin asks, when he finally pulls the zipper down, looking up at Jeno. 

Jeno’s been watching him the whole time, silently trying to count the lashes that curve down to Jaemin’s cheek, so he clocks into the way Jaemin’s gaze changes as soon as he locks onto Jeno’s face. His smile fades and something dark and cold enters his eyes and Jeno’s newly freed glove drops to the ground as Jaemin’s hand comes up to cup his cheek, thumb tracing just below the cheekbone, right below where his tattoo sits. “What happened?” Jaemin asks flatly, tracing the bruise that is definitely starting to flower with how it’s throbbing on Jeno’s face. 

“Nothing,” Jeno says easily, batting Jaemin’s violent tendencies aside before they even start to build to something else. “I was slow and I got clipped, nothing to worry about.”

“I told Mark you needed backup,” Jaemin scowls. “It was stupid of them to let you go alone.” His gaze sharpens on Jeno. “And it was stupid of _you_ to go alone.”

Jeno rolls his eyes again. “Calm down,” he says, wrapping his arm around Jaemin’s waist and yanking him closer. The bike’s engine must still be hot but Jaemin says nothing as it brushes up against his pants. “I’m here aren’t I? Alive and perfect.”

“Not perfect,” Jaemin shoots back, eyes still trained on Jeno’s cheek.

“Please,” Jeno says, drawing Jaemin’s gaze up to meet his. Jeno offers him a tiny smirk. “You like me a little damaged.”

“When _I’m_ the one doing the damage,” Jaemin scowls, dropping his hand to Jeno’s shoulder and pressing lightly.

Jeno groans, his head dropping for a second as his muscles relax momentarily. “Keep doing that, it feels so good.”

Jaemin snorts, his anger vanishing as quickly as it had come. He inches closer, both his hands coming up to smooth over Jeno’s muscles, pressing in with enough force that Jeno nearly goes boneless, just managing to keep his feet firmly planted on the ground so the bike doesn’t tip over. “This is why you don’t beg me to put you on a leash the night before a job,” Jaemin bites into the space between their faces, but there’s no snap to his voice. “You’re so sore now.”

“You had fun, didn’t you?” Jeno points out. 

“I always have fun when it’s you,” Jaemin says and it might be flirting if not for how serious his voice sounds. Jeno flushes and ducks his head lower and Jaemin steps closer, trying to work around their entangled arms.

Jaemin lets out a breath, fingers digging in harder. “God, how did you even manage the drive back? You’re completely knotted up.”

“The thought of your face kept me going,” Jeno teases lamely with a laugh, his head now completely resting on Jaemin’s shoulder. Jaemin snorts louder, not even pretending to react to Jeno which is _so_ unfair because Jeno puts up with his cheesy shit all the time without complaining. 

After a couple of seconds, Jaemin makes a noise of annoyance. “Okay, scoot up,” he instructs, pulling away abruptly. Jeno lets out a tiny moan of annoyance as the bliss disappears.

_“Why?”_

“I can’t get at your shoulders properly,” Jaemin says and Jeno obediently scoots up, leaning back to kick the rear stand of his bike down so it can stand upright before sliding all the way up so his hips are pressed against the still warm gas tank. Jeno’s bike is large enough - like all of theirs - to fit two people comfortably and Jaemin settles behind him with ease, shucking off his jacket so he can press properly into Jeno's shoulder without the leather blunting the force.

Jeno sighs, leaning into Jaemin's hold, his eyes fluttering shut. The garage is silent, save for the quiet hum of the aircon. It had only been installed because Donghyuck had pitched a bitch fit at being forced to fix cars in the hundred degree summer and like he always did, Mark had given in and shelled out for the garage to remain crisply cool all the time. Though Jeno suspects it was more Jisung’s influence than any whining Donghyuck had done.

"When'd you wake up?" Jeno asks after a while.

Jaemin hums. "Ten?" He contemplates.

Jeno sniffs. "Must be nice." He says. Jeno had had to drink two coffees just to be awake enough to drive safely. Jeno _hates_ coffee.

"It was," Jaemin purrs, leaning to brush his nose along Jeno's neck, teasing. He presses a kiss to the nape of Jeno's neck, tracing down the vertebrae and pressing hot, quick kisses until it gets too low for comfort and he comes back up, hot breath washing over Jeno's ear, making goosebumps trickle down his spine. "I was _exhausted_."

Jeno bites his lip even as heat pools irritatingly in his stomach. It's ridiculous how easily Jaemin can start him off with a single word. One of Jaemin's hands move from his shoulders to the collar of his close necked shirt, pulling it back to survey his neck. His fingers brush against the tender skin of Jeno's neck, where the collar had been fastened tightly last night and yanked several times in Jaemin's unforgiving hold and Jeno shivers.

"God, baby," Jaemin sighs in such a slow, sweet way that it has Jeno's toes curling. "You look so _pretty_."

"It's bruising?" Jeno manages around the block in his throat, neck arching automatically back into Jaemin's hands. 

Jaemin hums, pleasure spiking in his tone when he says, honey low and warm, " _So_ well. Wish I could take a picture of you like this."

Jeno sighs, heat sparking down his back, skittering down his arms and leaping off the tips of his fingers. Jaemin's hands travel lower, tracing down his sides before winding around to his front and toying with the fabric of his shirt, still tucked into his sweats. He dislikes wearing jeans to jobs, they always get dirty and getting bloodstains out of jean material is a horrendous task. No matter how much Mark complains about professionalism - which is hilarious given that there's not really anything _professional_ about them - Jeno insists on being comfortable when he does his jobs.

Jaemin's hand pauses for a second before it dips teasingly lower, along the elastic of Jeno's pants.

Jeno pauses. "Really?"

"You had to know this was coming," Jaemin tells him, a note of amusement in his voice. And _yeah_ , Jeno figured, but he didn't think it would be happening on his _bike_.

Jeno blinks, the haze of warm desire that always clouds him when Jaemin is around dissipating. He pulls away from Jaemin's hold, garnering a noise of affront from behind him, before leaning down and digging around in the pouch attached to his bike. They usually store essentials in there, locked with a heavy duty lock whenever they leave their bikes and Jeno knows exactly what's in his bag without having to look but today, something had been _off_ and-

He pulls out the travel sachet of lube and holds it up, above his shoulder so Jaemin can see. "You planned this," Jeno states, half a question, incredulous, half knowing. 

Jaemin snickers and Jeno twists around as best he can to look at Jaemin's face. "Of course I did," Jaemin says, plucking the lube from Jeno's fingers, and tipping his chin up with his free hand. "I told you, you look like a wet dream on this thing, baby."

His eyes are dark and dancing, amusement and something deeper, harder, flickering in them, curling into the pretty twist of his pink mouth and Jeno can't help the tiny sigh he lets out when their lips meet. His body is uncomfortably contorted, twisting around to the full extent of his ability but it doesn't stop him from thoroughly enjoying the kiss.

Jaemin licks into his mouth, hand curling around Jeno's neck, thumb sweeping up and down the column of his throat as he deepens the kiss, sitting up straighter so he can loom over Jeno, making the stretch a tiny bit easier on his waist.

Jaemin tastes like coffee, which Jeno wrinkles his nose at but underneath it all, he still tastes like himself, something that's so overwhelmingly Jaemin, like the sugar cubes he snacks in the most inopportune times - Jeno's seen him interrogate a suspect mole in their organisation for hours on end, just popping sugar cube after cube into his mouth as he'd waved a large knife in the sweating man's face - and toothpaste.

Jeno flushes hot all over at the memory of Jaemin expertly twirling a large knife in his fingers and lunges closer, dipping into Jaemin's mouth deeper, a desperate noise escaping him.

"Fuck," Jaemin gasps against his lips, pulling away briefly to catch his breath. "God, Jeno, _baby_ , you're so hot." His hand dips below Jeno's shirt and tugs it up, tracing over his stomach. Jeno's cock throbs, already starting to harden, heat pooling at the base of his spine. "I wanna fuck you so bad."

Jeno hums. "Wanna fuck me?" He asks, his voice low and throaty after _that_ kiss. "Right here? Where anyone could see?" It's precisely the right thing to say. Jaemin is nothing if not a voracious exhibitionist, leaving bruises and hickies exactly where Jeno won't be able to hide them. He's also ridiculously possessive which is exactly how Jeno has a tattoo bearing Jaemin's symbol, a wonky smiley face with the eyes crossed out on the inside of his right elbow, a perfect match to the one on the side of Jaemin's neck. (Jeno has his own mark on Jaemin, the twin of his cross tattoo resting under Jaemin's ribs, right where his heart ends.)

But that's besides the point. There are cameras all over the garage, all over the house really, and there wasn't a single blind spot. Which meant that anything they did would be plastered all over the security tapes.

It shouldn't be anything special, there are cameras in the bedrooms for safety, and Jeno _knows_ that the guards have probably gotten more than an eyeful of their activities but there's something in Jaemin that revs up faster than the best bike in their arsenal when Jeno reminds him of it.

Jaemin makes a twisted noise, something between a groan and a snarl and slams their mouths together again, the lube dropping somewhere between their bodies as he holds Jeno's face close to his own. his hand other hand sneaks back up Jeno's shirt, up, up, up that he thumbs at Jeno's nipple, making Jeno's mouth fall open, submitting to Jaemin's force.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard," Jaemin promises, but he seems unable to tear himself away from Jeno, kissing him again and again, making Jeno's head spin from the lack of air.

"Jaemin," he groans, pulling away, his neck aching from the twist. "Stop teasing me and actually _do it_."

There's a pause and then Jaemin moves, pushing Jeno back around, and immediately plastering himself to Jeno's back. His hand pushes Jeno's shirt up until it's bunched up around his ribs, playing with his nipples, the other hand pressing to the bulge in Jeno's pants. "You don't want me to tease?" Jaemin asks lightly, pressing his lips, open mouthed and hot, to the curve of Jeno's jaw as he tips his head back, eyes fluttering shut in Jaemin's hold. Jaemin traces the line of Jeno's cock with a finger and Jeno groans, hips arching up restlessly, trying to get more friction. Jaemin laughs. "What if I want to, though?" He teases. "What if I want to keep you like this for a while, hmm? Long enough that someone could walk through? See you like this, begging for my cock?"

"Don't-"

"Why not?" Jaemin interrupts Jeno's breathless word. His hand trails up Jeno's chest to his neck, pulling it back into a tighter arch. "You're mine, aren't you? And you were so eager to please yesterday."

Jeno whimpers, already feeling as if he were on fire and Jaemin hasn't even _touched_ him yet - not properly. "Jaemin," he begs, back arching further, to keep up with Jaemin as he tugs Jeno's head down on his shoulder. Jeno moans, letting his voice waver. "I _want you._ " He pleads, turning his head and pressing his lips to the curve of Jaemin's neck.

And that's really all it takes.

Just as Jaemin has a nearly disgusting amount of control over him, Jeno knows exactly where Jaemin's weak points lay, and knows exactly how to hit them. He doesn't use it often, certainly not as often as Jaemin does, but once in a while - times like this, for instance, when Jaemin is being a bastard - Jeno pulls his tools out. He wouldn't survive in a relationship with Jaemin otherwise.

"You look so pretty," Jaemin sighs, pushing Jeno's shirt up and off him until it flutters to land harmlessly on the ground. He kisses Jeno's neck, sucking hickies into the skin there, as he traces his hands shamelessly all over Jeno's body. He's not as covered in tattoos as Chenle is, but there's still a fair amount covering his chest, arching up against the strong line of his abs.

When Jaemin pushes him down, it's more gentle this time, his fingernails scraping up Jeno's back as he coos to himself, clearly admiring the way Jeno's whole body is arched down against the gas tank, hips propped up against Jaemin's legs, his wrists draped over the handlebars. Jeno's cheeks flush when Jaemin tugs down the elastic of his sweats, pushing it right below his ass. His cock throbs painfully and Jeno pushes his warm face against the cool metal of the bike. Goosebumps prickle up along his skin when Jaemin trails his fingers down his back again, pausing at his ass before he pulls away for a second and then -

A firm slap lands on the space where Jeno's thigh and ass meet and he groans, forehead thumping down onto the fuel tank, pushing back up into the air. Jaemin doesn't make a noise, probably trying to surprise him and it works. Jaemin slaps him again, on the other side and Jeno whimpers.

"I love your ass," Jaemin murmurs, more to himself than to Jeno and another hit lands on Jeno’s ass. 

Jeno's mouth falls open. It doesn't hurt, really, they're much too close, pushed up against each other, for Jaemin to have any range of movement, but the sound echoes through the silent garage and that, more than anything, makes Jeno blush.

It takes Jaemin what feels like forever - he takes his time palming Jeno's ass, pushing it around and tracing over every inch of Jeno's back until Jeno feels himself start to go a bit mad - until Jaemin finally, finally opens the lube, the sound loud enough to ricochet throughout the garage.

"Arch your back up, baby," Jaemin murmurs, his hand guiding Jeno up further until his ass is resting in the vee of Jaemin's thighs. Jaemin presses a kiss to Jeno's curved spine before he draws back and pushes a finger in. "So pretty," Jaemin says softly and Jeno groans at it.

It feels like heaven.

And a little bit like torture.

It's not enough, not nearly enough what Jeno was looking for but it's _something_ , after so _much_ teasing, and he whines, pushing back into it. He's still loose from last night - how could he not be, with the number of times Jaemin had fucked him? - but Jaemin still insists on going irritatingly slow. Probably to drive Jeno off the cliff of sanity before he ever gets his cock in him again.

"More," he pants, orders, _begs,_ hands clenching into fists, unclenching and clenching again, aching to grab onto something but he knows if he tries, if he reaches back to hold onto Jaemin right now, it won’t end well for him, won’t give him what he needs. "Jaemin, more - please-"

"I got you baby," Jaemin laughs and Jeno wants to kick him. Wants to push him off the bike and onto the ground and sit on his cock until he feels _full_ , until Jaemin gives up this act and fucks him like he was meant to. But he can't do that because he's pinned to his bike by his _stupid_ -

" _Oh_ , _fuck_ ," Jeno spits, trembling all over as three of Jaemin's fingers enter him at once. He's bypassed two altogether, and presses the heavy width in, curling up, seeking that one spot. " _Jaemin._ "

"Better?" Jaemin asks, amused. His other hand comes up to brace Jeno's waist, keeping them steady as Jeno tries not writhe too harshly on this very unstable surface. He spreads his fingers apart and presses right up against Jeno's prostate, sending sparks shattering all over Jeno's vision, filling it with white and gold. Jeno makes a wretched noise, his voice cracking halfway through the moan and he cries out.

"So much better,” he pants, trying to drive his hips back into Jaemin but Jaemin laughs and holds him still, his fingers driving relentless into Jeno, twisting and curling, until he pulls out and then does it again. “Jaemin, I'm good, _fuck_ , - _oh_ -," Jeno's knees give out. He's lucky he braced his feet on the footrests otherwise Jaemin's fingers would have slipped out entirely. He twists his neck around to catch Jaemin’s gaze, eyes glassy with unshed tears and pleasure, hoping the pleading look on his face will spur Jaemin into action. But Jaemin just smiles down at him and his free hand comes up to thumb at Jeno’s lower lip.

“God,” he sighs, fingers still fucking lazily into Jeno. “I should really get a picture like this one day. One with you on your knees for me too; I could frame it or put it in my pocket - ”

“You can- can do anything you want if you - _oh,_ _fuck -_ fuck me,” Jeno spits out, trembling all over. His thighs ache from how tense he is and Jaemin still hasn’t stopped prodding at the nerves, lighting him up all over. Jeno’s cock throbs, precome dripping all over the clean leather, making the slide smooth and entirely unsatisfying. Jaemin’s fingers dig in deeper for a second and Jeno whines, pleasure washing over him. It’s not nearly enough but god, he could, with just a little bit more he could- 

Jaemin’s smile is nothing short of evil. “Really?” He asks delightedly, pulling his fingers out with no warning. “You mean it baby?”

“I hate you,” Jeno chokes out, dropping his head back to the bike, hating the way his body trembles, disappointment washing over him, followed by the sting of betrayal. He was so _close_. 

Jeno hates being edged and Jaemin, the sadist he is, absolutely loves it. That was a mistake, agreeing to a carte blanche, but whatever, Jeno can deal with Jaemin’s photography kink at another time, when he isn’t absolutely gagging to be fucked.

“Liar,” Jaemin hisses, a laugh curling around it. The sound of his sweats being pushed down is nothing short of heavenly for Jeno and he can’t help the way his hips jerk up, already begging to be filled. “You love me, don’t you? You love _this_ , just waiting to be fucked, begging for me until your voice goes raw, I know you baby, I know exactly what drives you _mad_.” 

Jeno whines and Jaemin slaps his ass, harder and sharper this time. “Up,” he orders, sweet and slick, every drop of honeyed words pouring down Jeno’s spine and burning a path in their wake. Jeno braces his hands on the handlebars and arches his back further, the ache finally starting to tug but he persists, because _god_ , this is going to be worth it, he can feel it in his bones. 

“God, Jeno,” Jaemin sighs. “You look like a _dream_ , like my favourite sight ever.” His hands trace around Jeno’s hips, just for a second, before he’s pulling Jeno back, onto his cock, filling him up until Jeno’s hips are flush against his. 

Jeno whines, breathless. His nails dig into the handles but it’s not enough to keep from feeling nearly overwhelmed, sparks flashing along his vision. This position pushes Jaemin fully inside him, until Jeno is sitting back on his cock, taking him all the way down. He feels so full, he can feel it in the back of his throat. 

“Jaemin,” his voice cracks. He wants to lean against Jaemin, wants to wrap his arms around Jaemin and force him into moving but if Jeno takes his hands off this bike, he’s going to fall off.

“I got you baby,” Jaemin murmurs, his hands smoothing over Jeno’s chest. “My pretty baby, god you look so _good_ on my cock. I’ve got you.” He rocks back and forth, slowly, building to a rhythm. Even this is enough to make Jeno’s eyes roll back into his head and gasps, arching his back further, pushing back as much as he can. 

“Harder,” he begs and Jaemin, for the first time that day, listens to him and slams in, hard and rough. Jeno chokes on nothing as Jaemin’s cock brushes against that spot and then Jaemin’s gone, fucking into him again and again, ruthless and harsh, his fingers digging into Jeno’s hip, the other curling into his hair. 

“You take me so well, Jeno,” Jaemin gasps, finally sounding breathless, finally sounding out of control. “Look at you, god, you’re so fucking gorgeous. My pretty baby.”

“Yours,” Jeno agrees, mindless and Jaemin lets out a snarl. His hand wraps around Jeno’s throat and pulls him upright, until Jeno’s back is flush against Jaemin’s chest, riding his cock, meeting every thrust as well as he can, rolling his hips with the little coordination he has left. Jeno lets out a too loud moan when Jaemin drives his hips up hard, head lolling back onto Jaemin’s shoulder, losing all sense of coherency. 

Everything washes over him, the relentless way Jaemin pounds into him, the way his fingers tighten on Jeno’s throat, pressing right onto the tender bruises he’d left last night. Jaemin says something that gets lost in the roar in Jeno’s ear and he whimpers, mouth open, letting the sounds fall out of him with abandon. 

Then he’s being pushed back down, Jaemin’s hand unforgiving on the back of his neck as he fucks into him harder and faster. It builds too quick. After being on edge for so long, Jeno doesn’t last, he can’t - Jeno jerks his hips against the bike, practically in tears for friction that still eludes him. 

“Gonna fill you up so well,” Jaemin gasps, his voice having lost all it’s fine silkiness, sounding raw and hard. His hand, still wrapped around the back of Jeno’s throat, tightens and Jeno chokes. “Fuck, Jeno - gonna make you - _fuck -_ take it all-”

Jeno moans in agreement and somehow he finds the strength to throw an arm back and dig his nails into Jaemin’s back, urging him forward, urging him faster and then Jaemin’s pace gets violently fast before he’s coming, shooting inside Jeno, filling him up. Jeno whines. He can feel Jaemin’s come inside him, feels the way Jaemin trembles against him, hips flush to Jeno’s, before he slumps, his hand falling away from Jeno’s neck. 

Jeno allows him a moment but that’s all Jaemin gets before he’s nudging back onto his cock, making Jaemin twitch in overstimulation. “Jaemin,” Jeno begs, his voice wrecked from the way Jaemin had been pressing on his throat. 

Jaemin pulls him back up, and kisses his neck. “Yeah, baby,” he groans and then shoves Jeno down on his cock again. It must feel like torture for him but Jeno, too lost, in his still impeding orgasm, forgets to worry about that. He whimpers, rolling his hips down again and again and Jaemin’s hand wraps around his cock, hard and leaking all over from how long it had been ignored and Jeno whines. It’s not - not quite enough - 

“My pretty baby,” Jaemin murmurs, filthy words dropping between them, how Jeno had looked stretched out over his bike, on Jaemin’s cock, how _pretty_ he’d sounded begging for Jaemin’s cock and Jeno moans, the haze bulding and building and then Jaemin’s other hand wraps back around his throat, tightening just right, and Jeno gasps for air that doesn’t come and explodes, coming all over Jaemin’s hand, come shooting up his chest and all over his bike. But then Jaemin keeps _going_ , persists, and keeps rubbing at the head of Jeno’s cock until Jeno is sobbing, pushing at his hand futilely and he comes impossibly again, dry and hard, his whole body twisting around, inside out and he whites out, a choked off moan dying on his lips before it tumbles out. 

When he comes to, Jaemin is still wrapped around him, supporting his body. He’s pulled out, and Jeno can feel himself leaking everywhere. He’s a fucking _mess_ , the bike covered in his fluids and Jeno wrinkles his nose at it. 

“Back?” Jaemin asks, a note of laughter in his voice. 

“I think you killed me,” Jeno mumbles dumbly. It’s a shock he can even speak. His limbs feel numb and it’s an effort trying to keep his head up.

“Hmm, good,” Jaemin hums, kissing his neck. Even that small touch sends Jeno’s senses sparking, and he whimpers, twitching away from it. “Let’s go get you cleaned up,” Jaemin suggests. 

“My bike,” Jeno moans as Jaemin helps him off the bike. His legs wobble but Jaemin keeps him standing. Jeno shoots Jaemin a dirty look. “You’re cleaning this up.”

Jaemin’s smile is sweet and he looks gorgeous in the mid afternoon sun, pouring through the small windows at the top of the garage. “Whatever you say, baby,” he says and damn, he really might be the best boyfriend Jeno has ever had. Jaemin winks. “I get to take pics of you, I can deal with a little cleanup in return.”

Jeno’s blossoming smile drops off his face. 

Never mind. He hates his boyfriend. 

**Author's Note:**

> :] 
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/_donghyuck_)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/thereisnoreality)


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